


The Baltar Boy

by fragrantwoods



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Gen, Origin Story, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragrantwoods/pseuds/fragrantwoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: A senior project summer mission trip solidifies Laura Roslin's goal to teach. It solidifies other goals as well, in a farmer's son</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Baltar Boy

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: bsg_epics prompt to post a bit of an unfinished work had me finding this on my hard drive. I honestly don't remember how far I was intending to take this, but I'm hoping that this gives enough of an ending to work. Thanks to singerdiva01_sk and millari for liking my posted snippet, encouraging me to post the whole thing.

Gaius worried the speck of loamy dirt under his fingernail with his teeth, chewing and spitting until his nail lost the dark line that announced he worked on a farm. He ran his nails over his rough-woven shirt, trying to make the edges less ragged as he walked into the pre-fabricated school. His look jumped between faces, trying to work out who was attending and who wasn’t, wondering what that meant. Wondering if the other children left their farmhouses with harping arguments between parents ringing in their ears.

He only had to look at his paper once to see what room, what hallway he needed to find. His mother always bragged to her friends that he was smart that way…show him something once, he remembered it forever. Then his father would butt in, pointing out that remembering and doing were two different things. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the temporary enrichment school, but it was getting him away from his family for a couple of hours. Reason enough for a smile to flicker across his face as his eyes, big behind his new spectacles, took in the strangeness. He thought he might find interesting things here.

An hour later, his skinny frame had started melting into his seat, wanting to be far away from the strangeness. He knew people on the wireless, on the television talked differently from him and his mates, differently from their families. It was different, though, when the shortened vowels, the crisp consonants were coming from people standing in front of him, people who smiled at the children’s broad Aerilonian accents and said they were adorable.

He rolled his words inside his mouth, trying to feel, to taste the difference between his speech and theirs. A young woman came to his desk, patted his shoulder awkwardly and offering encouraging words on the paragraph he was writing, as he lied about the characters in “Meet My Family”. He ignored what she said, captivated by how she was saying her words, how her auburn hair spun across her cheek as she bent over his paper.

Another hour later, and it was time to go back to the farmhouse, see his potato-nosed father and his thin-mouthed mother. He had learned two things his first day: he wanted more than anything to talk posh like the Capricans, and he really, truly hated being a farm kid. And a third thing he wasn’t yet sure about…he kind of liked the bright, kind teacher’s helper—she seemed smart, and everyone else seemed to like her, too. But for being Caprican, for being an easy member of the group that didn’t have to dig in the dirt for a living…he kind of hated her for that.

 

 

********************************************

 

 

“So, what did you think of your first day?” Marjorie smiled at her new intern, trying hard to stay poised on her first off-world assignment.

“They’re sweet kids, for the most part. The ones I worked with seemed to just leap into the advanced assignments.” She paused, her eyes clouding as she thought of that one little boy who kept staring at her from behind horn-rimmed glasses, jerking his eyes back to his paper when she looked back at him. “There was that one child”—she checked her notes—"the Baltar boy.” She wrinkled her nose, then smoothed out her face at the teacher’s frown. “He seems diligent, but kind of twitchy. Kept staring at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.”

The older woman raised her eyebrow and gave her student intern a solemn look. “Laura, you’re an attractive girl with beautiful hair. If you do decide you want to be a teacher, you’ll have to learn to deal with students being attracted to you. “

The seventeen-year-old summer intern blushed at that…she’d had a couple of crushes on her teachers over the years, and the thought of being the object of a pre-teen’s affections made her stomach twist. Besides, she wasn’t at all sure he was looking at her like that. It was more like…”It was more like he resented me for something.”

Marjorie sighed. “Some of the older children do resent us. They know we’re here for a few weeks, they give us their time and attention, they get challenged, excited by the new material…and then our six weeks are up, and we’re back to Caprica, and they’re back to their Aerilonian school system.”

Laura frowned, brows knit with puzzlement. ”Why is that a problem, Mrs. Tate? They’re Aerilonians…this is their home. We’re just giving them something extra.”

Marjorie started packing up her folders and books. “Not everyone loves their home world, Laura. And some kids, like that odd one that picked you out…the ‘extra’ we give is nowhere near enough.”

 

 

*******************************************

 

 

Six weeks later, Laura and the other interns and teachers held a small party, cookies and fruit juice, for their summer class. There were ten students finishing, after four had dropped out to run combines and threshers so their families could make production. Laura was exhausted and energized, committed to being a teacher after university, but also ready for an end-of-summer beach trip before her freshman year began. Ready to be a kid herself for a little while longer.

Most of the children gave her a goodbye hug. The Baltar boy, though…he formally shook her hand, and his “Thank you, Miss Roslin” was oddly stilted for an Aerilonian kid. He sounded almost Caprican. _That’s a strange little kid,_ she thought. She felt bad for a minute, overly judgmental of the awkward gifted boy, then forgot about him halfway to Caprica City as she and the other interns started speculations about the coming year.

 

**********************************************

 

Six made the connection first, but kept it to herself. Gaius was left to wonder why he had such a visceral response to the new President…he honestly didn't remember meeting her at any of the Caprica City political functions. Six soothed his mind, drawing a curtain over memories of a fall of auburn hair against a smooth cheek.

He had more important things to worry about.


End file.
